


Things We're All Too Young To Know

by Lavellington



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Dirk, M/M, Romance, the proposal fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 19:43:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13219869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavellington/pseuds/Lavellington
Summary: Todd is not the marrying kind. Or at least that's what he's been telling himself.





	Things We're All Too Young To Know

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to dedicate this fic to the Dirk Gently fandom, but especially to Helen, who made me beautiful art for Christmas, Saga, who also made me beautiful art for Christmas, and Kate, who is writing me a Christmas fic. It's just a little thing, but I hope you guys enjoy it. Title from The Book of Love, by the Magnetic Fields. (Edit: If you really want to cry your eyes out I recommend you listen to this song, or the beautiful cover by Nataly Dawn, on youtube or spotify)
> 
> This is an established relationship fic - in my head Dirk and Todd have known each other for about two years at this point, and have been dating for nearly half of that time.
> 
> Warning: Dirk gets stabbed in this fic and ends up in hospital. Tread carefully, darlings! Happy ending guaranteed. Also warning for extreme medical inaccuracies, and a complete disregard for how stab wounds, painkillers and heart monitors work.

When Dirk gets stabbed in the abdomen, Todd's initial reaction is to think with something like resignation, _I bet it was the right side_. His second reaction, following closely on the heels of the first, is pure, unmitigated panic.

"He's in surgery," Bob says, on the phone. "Thought I should call you."

"Bob," Todd says, "if this is some kind of joke–"

Bob is a con artist, housebreaker, and all round scumbag who used his network of criminal contacts to "help" them on their last investigation. Todd's never trusted him, but right now there's a heavy, sick feeling in his gut that Bob is telling the truth.

"Wouldn't be very funny," Bob says. "Virginia Mason, second floor."

He hangs up, and Todd stares at his phone, momentarily frozen.

"Farah!" he yells, standing up from his desk and almost knocking his chair over. "We have to go to the hospital!"

Farah is there in an instant, eyes wide.

"Dirk?"

"He's been stabbed," Todd says, "he's in surgery."

He looks down and realises his hands are shaking.

He looks back up at Farah, who is standing with her hand over her mouth, and says, "I think you should drive."

 

When they arrive at the hospital, Dirk is still in surgery. The first face Todd sees when he gets to the waiting room is Bob "The Manta Ray" Jackson. He's wearing his usual denim jacket with faded jeans, and he looks more bored than anything. He stands up when he sees Todd and Farah.

"What the hell happened?" Todd says, striding up to him. "Where did you take him? Why were you even talking to him?"

"Take it easy, Rod," Bob says, holding his hands up.

"Bob, I swear to God," Todd grits out. Farah puts a hand on his arm.

"Bob," she says, sweetly, "I don't think I need to remind you what happened the last time you withheld important information from us."

Bob winces and rotates his left shoulder.

"I'm not involved," he says. "Your boss called me this morning, said he was walking past an abandoned house and he heard a cat meowing inside. He was afraid it was trapped, or hurt."

"Why the hell would he call _you_?" Todd asks.

"He was in my neighbourhood," Bob says, evasively. "And he needed someone with my... expertise. He said he would have broken in himself but he didn't want to get arrested twice in one month. Apparently he thought I could be a little more subtle about it."

"So what happened?" Farah asks. "Who stabbed him?"

"I don't know. Some junkie. Place looked like a crack den."

"Did you see it happen?" Todd asks.

"Nope. We got in the house, he told me to help him look. Said he'd take downstairs, I could take upstairs. Five minutes later I got a text from him."

He fishes his phone out of his battered denim jacket, taps the screen a few times, and hands it to Farah. Todd peers over her shoulder.

The text is from _Durk (British)_ and it reads, _I appear to have been stabbed. Kitchen. Cat is okay._

Todd closes his eyes and turns away. He feels sick.

"Why did you agree to help Dirk, anyway?" Farah asks. "Goodness of your heart?"

Bob shrugs. "I like cats."

"Okay," Farah says, handing his phone back. "You can go, Bob."

He shoots off a mocking salute, and turns to leave.

"Hey," Todd says. Bob turns around warily. "You called the ambulance?"

"Yeah," he says. "Guy was bleeding everywhere. Seemed like the thing to do."

"Thanks," Todd says, unsteadily. "And... thanks for calling me."

Bob nods, and leaves.

Todd wobbles his way over to one of the scuffed plastic chairs, and falls into it. He leans his elbows on his knees and puts his head in his hands.

"Hey," Farah says, softly. Todd hears her sit down next to him. "He's going to be okay."

"He damn well better be," Todd mutters.

"Excuse me," a voice says, and Todd looks up to see a harried looking woman in scrubs. He scrambles to his feet.

"Are you the family of Dirk Gently?" she asks, looking between them.

"Yes," Todd says. "I mean, no. We're not related. I'm his boyfriend. And we all work together."

"I'm Dr Yeoh," she says, shaking his hand and then Farah's. "Dirk is out of surgery, and he's stable."

Todd exhales so hard he feels like he's about to deflate. He grabs Farah's arm.

"Oh my God, thank you," he says. "Thank you. Can we see him?"

She hesitates.

"I'm afraid it's family only for now."

Todd stares at her.

"He doesn't _have_ any family. I'm his boyfriend. We live together."

For a second, Todd thinks she's going to refuse to let him in, and he's seriously contemplating going outside and scaling the wall, but then she relents.

"Okay," she says. "Just you. He'll be sleeping for a few more hours, but you can sit with him for a while."

"I'll wait here," Farah says. "I'll call Amanda, tell her what happened."

"Okay," Todd says, already halfway down the hall.

For all of his determination to see Dirk, when Dr Yeoh leaves him in the quiet, dim room, Todd stands for a full minute just inside the door, afraid to move further inside.

There's a heart monitor next to the bed, and it beeps in a steady and reassuring rhythm. Todd takes a deep breath and approaches.

Dirk is extremely pale. His hair is limp and sticking to his head, he has bruise-dark circles under his eyes, and he somehow looks _thinner_ than he did when he kissed Todd goodbye this morning. Todd touches his cheek, and is reassured to find it warm.

"Hey," he whispers. "Wake up, I need to talk to you. I need to ask you what the hell you were doing. I need to ask why you didn't call me. I need to ask... why this is so much worse than all the other times."

He knows why, he realises. It's because there was no case, no adventure, no grand story. Just a sordid little crime, and Todd _wasn't there._

"I'm sorry," he says. Dirk doesn't wake up.

 

*

 

The next few days are spent in a blur of doctors, medical jargon, and horrible, vivid nightmares. Every night Todd wakes gasping, and experiences a moment of fear and disorientation when he reaches out and finds the bed empty but for him. He stays in the hospital every night until the nurses make him leave, even though Dirk spends about 80% of his time sleeping or doped up on painkillers.

He starts avoiding their apartment, going back to the agency office and napping on the couch for an hour or two at a time. Farah gives up on trying to get him to go home.

"What's all this?" she asks, when she lets herself into the office, three nights after Dirk was hurt. Todd is sitting at the table where they usually take their coffee breaks, surrounded by paperwork that he is attacking with a grim determination. His hand is starting to cramp.

"I'm offically making myself Dirk's emergency contact," he says. "The doctors told me he doesn't have one."

"That's good," Farah says, in that cautious tone she's been using around him lately. "But I think it can wait til the morning. You should get some sleep, Todd. It's after midnight."

"I'm nearly done," he says, rubbing his eyes. "I just want to avoid this ever happening again. They weren't going to let me _see_ him, Farah. If Bob hadn't been there, no one would have even known I existed. If–or more likely, _when_ –Dirk gets hurt again, I need everyone to know that I'm the one to call."

"Well," Farah says, pulling up a chair and raising her eyebrows at the pile of paperwork, "this oughta do it."

"Great," Todd mutters. "Now I just have to make sure _Dirk_ knows it. Can you believe him? Bleeding out in a crack house, and who does he call? 911? His boyfriend? No, he _texts_ a petty thief and conman, because he doesn't want to _bother_ me."

"Well–" Farah starts.

"And _then_ ," Todd continues, digging his pen into the paper with maybe slightly more force than necessary, "he nearly rips his stitches open trying to shower by himself, even though I told him I would help him!"

"I think–" Farah says.

"I mean, I get it." Todd shakes his hand out, flexing his fingers, and signs his name for the billionth time. "He's been through a lot. It's hard for him to believe I'm gonna stick around. But I don't know what else I can say to convince him. I mean, he could have _died_."

At this point he's forced to stop for a moment, something huge and terrifying rising in the back of his throat. He blinks, the paragraphs of close-printed text blurring in front of his eyes.

"So," Farah says, after a brief silence. "What I'm hearing is that you are looking for a binding agreement that appoints you Dirk's default emergency contact, and makes it clear to him and the rest of the world that you will help him when he's in trouble, care for him when he's sick, and be the most important person in his life, indefinitely."

Todd raises his eyes to meet Farah's, a chill creeping up his spine.

" _No_ ," he says. "Farah, do not even–"

"Don't even what?" she asks, her expression a little too innocent.

"Don't twist my words!"

"I literally just repeated what you were already saying, with less complaining."

"No," Todd says. He puts the pen down and puts his head in his hands. "That's not what I said. I don't–"

"You don't believe in marriage," Farah says, rolling her eyes, "and you hate cops, and you're morally opposed to minivans, and you only went to that Taylor Swift concert because you were afraid Dirk would get trampled by teenage girls if he went alone–"

"Oh, God," Todd says, his head thunking on to the table. "Why don't I just get a house in the suburbs and a Prius?"

"Todd, your boyfriend has been arrested three times in the last year. He makes friends with everyone from assassins to stray dogs to Vegas card sharks. He literally infiltrated a government facility using a magic portal. He has never in his _life_ paid for a jacket."

Todd, head still resting on the table, snorts.

"That's my guy," he says wryly.

"My point," Farah says, "is that you and Dirk will never be a boring, suburban couple."

"I know," he says. "I know that."

"So what is it? What have you got to prove?"

He sits up and looks at the paperwork in front of him, his name written next to Dirk's in varying iterations.

"If this is what you want," Farah says, "then you should ask him. I understand you want to think it over - you've had a shock. But you need to stop holding yourself back, Todd. Stop being so hung up on the guy you used to be, and think about what will make you happy _. Both_ of you."

After she leaves, Todd sits motionless for a long time.

 

*

 

Dirk spends another week in the hospital, recovering from his blood loss, and getting tested for various things he might have picked up from being stabbed with a dirty knife. Todd spends this time battling feelings of anger, sympathy, and straight up, stomach-clenching fear. He does his best to stay calm around Dirk, but he knows he's not pulling it off. Dirk has been subdued, avoiding Todd's eyes and making small talk about the weather. He looks smaller than usual in his hospital gown. Todd hates it, and he hates that he couldn't stop it, and he hates that he doesn't know what to do about any of it.

The day before Dirk is due to be discharged, Todd finds himself standing outside a jeweller's, staring in the window. There are rings in the display with huge whopping diamonds, small, glittering gems, and some plain, unadorned bands. He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks away.

"You're angry with me," Dirk says, that evening. They're waiting for the result of Dirk's final blood test, and there's a pain in Todd's head, a pressure mounting behind his eyes that's getting harder to ignore. He's already snapped at Dirk twice, and he's sick with himself.

"No," he says, shifting in the uncomfortable chair. "I'm not."

Dirk fiddles with his pudding cup.

"Okay," he says, softly. "If you're sure."

"Did you eat enough?" Todd asks. Dirk nods wordlessly.

"You wanna take a nap?"

"Alright," Dirk says, the word barely audible. Todd stands up and moves the tray, wheeling it away from the bed. Dirk gingerly shifts himself into a half-reclining position, and watches Todd silently as he straightens Dirk's blanket and adjusts his pillows.

"Comfortable?" he asks, brushing Dirk's hair from his face.

Dirk's eyes squeeze shut and he nods. He looks utterly miserable. Todd lets his hand drop and stands there, helplessly.

"You don't have to stay," Dirk whispers, opening his eyes.

Todd stares at him. "What?"

"You can go," Dirk says, "I'll be fine. It's obviously hurting you to be here. I know you'd think it's bad form to break up with me while I'm recovering from surgery–"

"Wait, _what_?"

"It's okay," Dirk says, his eyes welling up. "I understand. I screwed this up, not you. I should have been more careful, I should have called you–"

"Dirk, Dirk, stop!" Todd feels sick.

He moves closer, his hands cupping Dirk's face. Dirk is crying now, and though he's clearly still a little out of it from the painkillers, Todd is under no illusion as to what caused this. It was him.

He has two options here: he can push Dirk away, which will only hurt them both in the long run, however noble his intentions. Or he can damn well do better.

"I don't want to break up with you," he says, looking steadily at Dirk's face and willing him to make eye contact. "That's the last thing I want. And I'm not mad at you."

"You _are_ ," Dirk hiccoughs, "you've been angry all week–"

"Not at you," Todd says. He strokes soothingly under Dirk's eyes with his thumbs. "If I was mad at anyone, it was myself. I should have been there with you. And I was mad at the asshole who did this to you."

Dirk finally raises his eyes to Todd's. His face is red and blotchy.

"And... I was less angry than scared," Todd says, forcing the words out. "I was scared shitless that I was going to lose you. Dirk, I don't know what I would do if that happened."

Dirk sags into Todd's hands, covering them with his own.

"Do you really mean all that?" he whispers.

"Of course," Todd says, "of course I do. Dirk, you are so important to me. I'm sorry that you didn't know that."

He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Dirk close, taking his weight. As he kisses Dirk's hair, he hears Farah's voice in his head say, _What do you have to prove_?

He stays for another hour after Dirk falls asleep, watching him from a chair by his bedside. Eventually the nurse comes in and tells him apologetically that visiting hours are over, so he gets his jacket, kisses Dirk's forehead, and goes.

As he stands in the elevator, staring blankly at the doors, he realises that he's not angry anymore. At some point in the last hour, without realising it, he made a decision.

 

*

 

Dirk's final blood test comes back clear, and one of the doctors whose name Todd can't remember tells him that he's free to go.

"I'm sure your friend will look after you," she adds, smiling at Todd.

"Actually," Todd says, "I'm his partner."

Dirk looks at him in surprise. Todd shrugs one shoulder at him.

"Oh," she says, glancing at her clipboard. "My apologies. Well, just make sure he gets plenty of rest, and stays hydrated."

"I will," Todd says. "thank you."

"I'll get your prescription and finalise your paperwork," she says to Dirk, "and you can go home in a couple of hours."

"Thank you," Dirk says, smiling at her. "And thank you for looking after me so well. This would have been a very pleasant experience were it not for the stab wound."

 

Dirk is more lucid now that he's off the painkillers, and he spends the rest of the morning acting sheepish and embarrassed around Todd, who fusses over him with renewed determination.

"Todd, really," Dirk says, his ears turning pink as Todd makes sure his blankets are tucked securely around him. "I've told you, I'm fine!"

"I'm just making sure," Todd says.

"I was... not myself yesterday," Dirk says, picking at a piece of fluff on the scratchy pink blanket. "You don't have to–"

"Stop," Todd says. Dirk stops, but doesn't look up at him. "What I said yesterday... I meant it, Dirk. I was scared because you were hurt, and I'm bad at dealing with emotions, so I acted like a jerk. I wasn't mad at you, I don't want to break up, and I'm not looking after you because I feel guilty. I'm doing it because I want to."

Dirk smiles at the blanket.

"In that case," he says, "don't let me stop you."

"Great," Todd says. "Need a pillow fluffed? Hot beverage? Back massage?"

"Well," Dirk says, his smile peeking through his faux-serious expression, "now you mention it, there is a type of tea, whose leaves are harvested from a mountain in Singapore and _painted_ with 24 carat gold–"

"I have the depressing feeling you're not making this up."

"I think it would greatly aid my convalescence," Dirk says, outright grinning at him now.

"I have ten bucks in my wallet," Todd says. "How do you feel about Starbucks?"

"Starbucks sounds delightful," Dirk says.

"I'm on it," Todd says, kissing him on the cheek.

Dirk's face turns pink to match his ears.

"Come back here," he murmurs, "and do that properly, if you wouldn't mind."

Todd leans back in, grinning, and kisses him, mouthing gently at his bottom lip before he cups his jaw and kisses him deep and soft.

The heart monitor at the side of the bed beeps slightly faster.

"Oops," Todd says, breaking away. Dirk laughs breathlessly.

"Sod it," he says, pulling Todd back in, "things were just getting interesting."

"In a few days," Todd says, stroking his hair, "I promise we'll have some time. Right now I'm going to keep treating you like you're made of glass, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Dirk pouts.

"Sexy, sexy glass," Todd amends, and Dirk rolls his eyes, his lips twitching into something that isn't quite a smile.

"Hey," Todd says, heart pounding. "I love you."

Dirk's eyes widen, his mouth falling open.

"I... I love you too."

"Good," Todd says. "I'm going to get the tea. I'll be right back."

He kisses Dirk again, short and sweet this time, and makes a hasty exit.

As he gets in the elevator, he takes his phone out and dials Farah. He has some planning to do.

 

*

 

When Todd gets Dirk home that evening, there's a bag from a jeweller downtown sitting on their kitchen table.

"What's that?" Dirk says, squinting at it as Todd helps him hobble to the couch.

"Just something I asked Farah to pick up for me," Todd says offhandedly. "I told her to let herself in and leave it on the table."

"But what _is_ it?" Dirk says, twisting around on the couch to look. He gasps and winces, clutching his side.

" _Stop_ that," Todd says, helping him take his jacket off. "I'll show you in a second."

"Is it tea from Singapore?" Dirk asks, as Todd hangs their jackets up.

"No," Todd says, "but I hope you'll like it just as much."

He reaches into the bag, pulls out the ring box, and walks over to sit next to Dirk on the couch. There are so many things he wants to say that he doesn't know where to start, so he just opens the box and shows Dirk the ring inside. It's white gold, and set with three gems that are yellow, green, and blue.

Dirk goes very, very still.

"So," Todd says, "this is... exactly what it looks like."

He's shaking with adrenaline, and he can't quite bring himself to look Dirk in the eye. He tries desperately to remember a single one of the romantic things he'd planned to say.

"Todd," Dirk says, quietly. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I have to ask."

Todd swallows and looks at him. Dirk looks cautious, but not like he wants to bolt.

"Yeah?"

"Are you doing this because I nearly died?"

"No," Todd says, immediately. "I mean, yes, this whole thing got me thinking, especially when you got stabbed and no one even knew to call me–"

"We've taken care of that now," Dirk points out. "You don't have to do this."

"I know that," Todd says. He's still holding the box open between them, and every now and then Dirk's eyes dart down to look at it. "I'm not doing this because I feel obligated. Or because I'm scared."

He takes a deep breath and tries to scrape some words together. He and Dirk misunderstand each other sometimes, but they usually manage to get their point across in the end.

"I haven't been through what you've been through, with Blackwing and everything. But I think you and I have both spent a lot of our lives feeling... unstable. Like we couldn't trust the ground under our feet. And I don't want either of us to feel like that anymore. I'm in this. Forever. I want that to be really, _really_ clear."

Dirk is staring at him, but his face gives nothing away. Todd tries not to fidget.

"I mean, it's not a dealbreaker," he says. "Obviously. Whatever you want."

Dirk blinks, and clears his throat, looking down at the ring.

"It doesn't really seem to fit with your anti-establishment worldview."

Todd shrugs.

"Guess I'm full of shit."

Dirk laughs, a startled, disbelieving sound. Todd feels himself start to grin.

"I can't believe this is happening," Dirk whispers. "Is this real? My head feels hot. I can't feel my toes."

"You want me to pinch you?" Todd asks. He's still feeling a little shaky himself.

"You'll do no such thing," Dirk says. He rubs his hand across his mouth, rakes it through his hair, and looks back up at Todd, his eyes serious and so, so blue.

Todd feels, more acutely than he ever has before, that this is one of those moments he'll look back on throughout his life and want to remember every single detail. He takes a second to memorise the fall of Dirk's hair, his faded Mexican Funeral shirt.

"So," he says, looking down at the ring. "What do we do now?"

"Well," Dirk says, "I've never been proposed to before, but I don't think I'm supposed to put it on myself."

"Right," Todd says, and then, "Shit! Hold on."

He slides off the couch and onto one knee, holding up the ring box.

"Oh my _God_ ," Dirk says, laughing. There's a slight edge of hysteria to it, and Todd gets that. He starts to laugh too.

"Shut up," he says, "stop. I won't be able to say it if you're laughing at me."

"Did you," Dirk wheezes, putting his hand over his mouth, "did you just tell me to shut up _mid-proposal_?"

"Shit," Todd says, "sorry. Seriously though, shut up."

Dirk collapses back onto the couch, laughing helplessly. Todd grabs his left hand in a sneak attack.

"Okay," he manages, grinning, "here we go."

Dirk laughs some more, wiping his eyes.

"Dirk," Todd says, doggedly, "will you marry me?"

Dirk's laughter tapers off, and he looks fondly at him. Todd gets the feeling he's doing some memorising of his own.

"Yes," Dirk says, finally. He's smiling more widely than Todd has ever seen him smile before. "Yes, I think I will."

Todd slips the ring onto Dirk's finger and stares at it.

"Holy shit," he says. "I'm having an out of body experience."

"Todd," Dirk says, "don't throw phrases like that around. I don't want to ruin the moment by asking if you've been soul-swapped."

Todd clambers back onto the couch, still clutching Dirk's hand.

"Don't worry," he says, stroking his thumb across the metal band on Dirk's finger. "This is all me."

 

**Author's Note:**

> [He wasn't making it up.](http://luxurylaunches.com/other_stuff/the_yellow_gold_tea_buds_is_most_expensive_tea_in_the_world.php)


End file.
